Page 11 of Baker
“Why is that such a big distinction to make?” She took another gulp of coffee. I thought about reaching for it, but given the set of her jaw, I opted to let her have it. When she was in a contrary mood, trying to take coffee from her was like trying to remove a fish from a hungry bear. You might pull back a bloody stump.
“Because they’re not my brothers.” Her gaze grew stony. “Not my real brothers.” Cold silence fell. The old pipes rattled. Someone on the second floor was using the bathroom. “They’re strangers to us, Granny.” I lowered my voice so as not to be overheard by whoever was tiptoeing around above us.
“Bull dangles.”
“Granny, they are, really.” I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand as the old fridge kicked on. “Sure, they have half our blood, but—”
“Half is enough to make them family, Baker. You know what the good book says.”
“Don’t covet your neighbor’s ass?”
“Now you’re just being a shit.” Yeah, I was. I hurried to eat more cake. “It says to bear your brother’s burdens.”
“Granny, honestly, I don’t think we can bear any more burdens.” I placed my spoon on my dish. I didn’t want to chance her swiping it back as I was being lippy. “And they are not really my brothers. You know your brothers and sisters. Those three could be mobsters.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Baker. Mobsters. You watch too many shows on the Netflix,” she huffed. “One is a dentist.”
Oh right. “That could be a front. He could be laundering money for a crime syndicate.”
Her lips puckered. Ruh-roh. “You’re talking nonsense. All three of those men are just lovely. They’re looking for family connections and fresh starts. You, of all people, should be willing to offer someone looking to begin again a chance to do so.”
Damn. She had pulled out the big guns. I lowered my gaze to my plate as she waited for me to say something. The fridge hummed along as a floorboard over our heads creaked. My shoulders sagged in defeat. She was right. Fuck me. I ate the last bite of cake then swallowed before speaking.
“Okay, fine, I’ll talk to them in the morning.” I glanced over the table. She was nodding. “But we’re not just flinging open our doors and asking them to move in. Family, they might be, but we don’t know what kind of luggage they’re bringing with them.”
She gave me a smile. “That’s a gracious first step. We’ll talk more over breakfast.”
With that settled, for now, I rose and carried my plate and empty mug to the sink to rinse them off before putting them in the dishwasher. Then I turned to her. She looked tired. It was way past her usual bedtime of nine p.m. sharp.
“I’m really not trying to be a jerk, Granny. I just wish Cash had left us all alone. He was good at that. Why try to be a decent human being at the end? Why ask four grown men to play at being brothers this late in life?”
“Could be he just only figured it out at the end.” She slowly got to her feet with a soft moan. “You have a chance to right the wrongs he brought to you and your brothers by being a better man than your father was. Try to look at their arrivals as a blessing instead of a curse. You just might realize that having them around is a good thing. A person can never have too much family.” She gave me a pat on the cheek before heading to thedoor. “Oh, and I gave Dodge your room. There are blankets and a pillow on the sofa.”
Off she went to her bed, leaving me staring at the ceiling where my sibling snoozed away comfortably under my covers. I’d had three younger brothers for a day and they were already taking my shit.
I could barely wait to see what they tried to grab tomorrow.
5
Chapter Five
Sleeping on the sofa sucked.
I tossed and turned half the night.
I chalked some of my edginess to pent-up sexual tension made worse by knowing that a good-looking guy who was into other men was snoozing in my stable. I should have offered to come back to the barn for a good romp. Maybe Hanley would have been into that. Hehadlooked at my ass. It had been a long,longtime since I’d been in the arms of someone who didn’t smell of Ben-Gay. Not that Granny’s hugs weren’t the best. They were, along with her cookies and carrot cake, but a hug from your grandma wasn’t the same as a hug from a sexy photographer.
The other half of my fractured rest, I had vivid, creepy dreams about my father rising from his fresh grave to complain about his plot. Exhausted mentally and physically, my eyeballs were open at five in the morning, just like always. Moving to my side to relieve the ache in my back, I lay there, quiet as a mouse, and listened to the old ranch house as it slept. Granny would be upin fifteen minutes, slapping around in her slippers to begin her day. Breakfast followed by morning chores before the daily work required to keep a place up and running. Not that I had a lot running at the moment. But that would change. I hoped. Once the three dudes who shared my surname got it into their heads that farm living was not the life for them, I’d be poorer, yes, but free to begin my ten-year plan. Soon as I had an idea of what the first step in the ten-year plan was.
Lumbar protesting this position as well, I sat up, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and picked up my phone. Nothing much of interest, so I rose, stepped into yesterday’s pants, and hobbled to the kitchen. The coffee was perking when Granny arrived in her flannel PJs, yellow robe, sloppy slippers, and curlers in her silver hair.
“Morning,” she said around a yawn.
“Morning.” I handed her a cup of coffee, bent to kiss her soft cheek, then made my way to the mudroom. “Going to the barn,” I called over my shoulder as I tugged on my weathered brown chore coat.
“Don’t dawdle over them horses too long. We have a family meeting set for seven.” She pattered up to the doorway.
“I didn’t see that text,” I replied, then yanked on a pair of work boots as old as Granny, or damn close.
